


Disastrous

by DarkEyedDreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Happy Ending, Hermione in charge, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Porn With Plot, Protective Draco Malfoy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, harrassment, voldemort doesn't return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkEyedDreamer/pseuds/DarkEyedDreamer
Summary: The first time Hermione really needed saving it wasn't Viktor, Ron, or even Harry Potter who came to the rescue. It was Draco. (Set during their fourth year AKA Goblet of Fire)





	Disastrous

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any scenarios where Hermione is anything but a nervous virgin type, and as much as I love that I also love the idea of a bold and sensual Hermione so I wanted to contribute this concept. But I don't know how to write porn without plot, so it evolved into this.  
> (In celebration of the porn purge on tumblr, will be posting more here)

Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. It was half past one in the morning, and yet she remained in bed, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. She supposed it was probably out of worry. Harry was competing in the Tri-Wizard Tournament much too young. He could get himself killed and there was nothing she could really do about it other than, apparently, lose sleep. She sat up in frustration, deciding on doing what she always did when she couldn't sleep. Take a walk around the halls.

Technically, she knew she wasn't supposed to be doing so. She knew she could get in trouble for it, but any time a teacher spotted her (without Ron and Harry, of course) she always managed to convince them she meant no harm, and that she was just attempting to walk off whatever energy was keeping her awake. So far, she'd gotten no more than a warning that she needed to keep noise to a minimum when she was out walking after curfew, and the warning not to leave the school no matter how nice it looked outside. Even Professor Snape seemed content to let her bend the rules now and again, when it came to something so unimportant as a simple walk. He'd even walk with her sometimes, if she asked him to. 

On those nights, she'd tell him stories of her childhood and he'd give her tips with her potions class. She really did feel bad sometimes about thinking he was a Death Eater her first year. He seemed to have forgiven it, though, so she supposed dwelling on it was pointless.

Tonight seemed to be setting up for one of her more lonely walks, as she saw no sign of a Professor anywhere. She waved hello to a few paintings who also seemed plagued with insomnia, wandering further down the corridors; the sound of her shoes echoing in the otherwise silent corridor. She liked to try to make herself lost, enjoying the puzzle it took to find her way back to the Gryffindor rooms. Usually the brain power it took was enough to make her tired enough to sleep.

She'd almost wandered far enough away to start her puzzle when she heard the creaking of a door. She turned, assuming to meet eyes with a teacher, but instead jumped when a low voice hissed out from the darkness, _"Carpe Retractum."_

Her body suddenly lurched forward, falling headfirst into the darkened room. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a makeshift bed in the far corner, and realized it was probably the room given to one of the students from the competing schools. Perhaps more tired than she thought, the danger did not quite reach the forefront of her mind. 

"I'm sorry, did I scare you? I was just going for a-" Her explanation was cut short when her body hit the wall rather harshly, her wand falling to the ground in the process.

She was dizzy, too dizzy to really know what was happening when the body- a very strong looking boy who must have been a few years older than her, moved forward with another spell falling from his lips. Suddenly, her body felt like it was made of stone. She couldn't move, her arms held up like a criminal displaying no weapons and her legs sprawled apart. She struggled against the invisible binds, not liking the helplessness she suddenly felt. A sense of panic rose in her chest as she attempted to search her surroundings, trying to look for something, anything, of use.

Her eyes stopped on him, almost unable to stop looking at the very real threat before her. Even in the dark she could see his sneer as he looked her over, licking his lips like he was hungry. She opened her mouth to scream but the sounds were swallowed when he pushed his tongue into her mouth, hands reaching forward and grabbing either ends of her button-up shirt and tearing down, exposing her pale blue bra.

Instinctively, she bit down on his tongue- hard. He shot back and his hand raised to slap her with a force that made her cheek instantly began to bruise. She ignored the pain, letting out a scream as he moved forward to kiss her again, this time forcing her mouth open with one hand as his free hand pushed his hand forcefully under her bra. She tried her best to move away, even knowing she wasn't going anywhere.

When his mouth pulled away from hers she let out another loud shriek, hoping that a teacher was around to hear it. Hoping he hadn't sound-proofed the door. He didn't seem too concerned, which only made her growing fear worsen.

"That's it, keep it up. I like hearing you scream like that." He cooed, and the amusement in his tone sickened her.

She thought about remaining silent out of spite, but there was a tiny bit of her that hoped someone might still hear her, maybe Ron and Harry had woken up and realized she was no longer there. Maybe went looking for her. Or maybe a stray teacher would hear the sounds. So with that thought she screamed again as the boy traced his finger over her panties, seeming to want to draw out her fear for a while longer.

"You might as well let yourself enjoy it, tomorrow you won't even remember. But I promise to keep the aching between your legs. That will hurt for days. Just so you know deep down you were with a real man."

The groping only lasted a few more seconds before the boy's hand pushed her skirt up over her hips, and over her own shouts she almost didn't hear the door fling open, sending in a blinding light from the hall, or the familiar voice shout, _"Everte Statum!"_

The boy's hands were removed from her body as he was flung backwards, his head making a nearly sickening noise as it connected with the wall several feet away. Hermoine felt her body immediately start trembling, and she was relieved the spell seemed to have faded when the boy was disarmed. Still, she could not muster the strength to move away. Instead she sank to the floor, eyeing her savior numbly. She supposed it was the shock keeping the panic at bay.

It was Draco. He had yet to look over at her, instead staring with an unhidden furiousness at the boy still laying on the marble floor. Still without looking at her, he took a few steps forward, placing himself between her and her attacker almost protectively. Hermione wondered for a moment if he even knew who he was protecting, but she was nearly sure he must have seen her when he entered the room even if he couldn't identify the shrieks. 

She wondered why exactly he'd gone out of his way to help her of all people, but an out-of-character meekness had overcome her and she found herself too nervous to ask, fearing he'd come to his senses and leave her alone again. The boy didn't seem to be much of a threat at the moment, but she couldn't get the feeling of his hands on her skin out of her mind, and it only made the shaking of her bones worse.

 _"Acridolar."_ Draco said, this time in a much calmer tone, his wand pointed at the wounded-boys stomach.

Hermione hadn't ever heard that particular spell before, and the resulting scream from the boy told her why. She'd never been one to look too deeply at attack spells. The boy writhed around on the ground, his screams just as deafening as she supposed hers had been a few moments prior. She watched, motionlessly, as Draco placed his foot on the squirming boy's throat, placing pressure on it as he knelt down to look at him.

"If I ever see you around here again, I'll Crucio you at a moments notice." He snarled. "Leave you rotting somewhere until either the pain or starvation kills you. Do I make myself clear?"

The boy nodded, eyes wide with nothing short of terror. He opened his mouth as if to speak but the only noise that came out was another choked scream. Perhaps she'd have been terrified too, the look in Draco's eyes was serious, and even Hermione was sure that he meant it. Why he meant it, she was less sure. Why he'd risk a lifetime sentence in Azkaban for someone he'd only shown disdain for previously was quite the mystery to her. Still, she did not ask.

Draco muttered out a few words of approval, before using Petrificus Totalus to keep him from wandering off. Hermione wondered if under the spell, he could still feel whatever pain he'd been in beforehand. A part of her hoped so, and the anger still shining in Draco's eyes when he turned to look at her made her think he did too.

He'd only managed to take a few steps towards her when the numbness finally gave way to the emotions she'd been feeling underneath. She lept up from her place on the floor, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his shoulder as the tears suddenly came. She did not cry often, but her body seemed to think now was a reasonable time. She couldn't disagree, but still found it mildly embarrassing to cry into the probably-expensive robe of the Slytherin who she'd assumed until minutes ago hated her.

"Granger..." Draco said hesitantly, and Hermione thought he was about to push her away from him before he added, "your shirt."

With a new embarrassment she shot back, looking around for her wand in the darkness. She didn't have time to find it before Draco had waved his own and the buttons on her shirt helpfully repaired, even buttoning themselves back up. She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and hoped her face expressed her gratefulness where her voice could not. When Draco moved his arms out slowly, hesitantly, she collapsed back into them with a feeling of relief. She didn't like feeling small and helpless, but in the moment she was grateful with the comfort that the Slytherin was giving her- however odd it may be.

"Hey, hey. It's alright Granger he can't do anything now. I'm right here." Draco said comfortingly, his tone gentle albeit muddled with hesitation. "Come on, wipe your eyes. We'll go get Dumbledore."

He visibly relaxed when she nodded, probably feeling very out of his depth at the moment. She took a deep breath, wiping at the tears that hadn't already dried. She knew it would probably still be easy to tell she'd been crying, but it made her feel a little better. A bit of control. Without a single glance back at the boy still frozen on the floor, she let Draco take her away from the room. His hand held her wrist loosely, more leading than pulling.

"Thank you." She said quietly when she found her voice again. It was cracked, raw sounding from the screams.

Draco paused to look at her for a moment before replying, "Don't worry about it."

\--

The boy had been expelled without much deliberation; it seemed he'd had a history at Durmstrang, but nothing even coming close to this. The school was unhidden in its love for the dark arts, but even the Headmaster seemed at the very least troubled by the situation. For a moment, she was sure he was about to accuse her of lying to put them in a bad light for the games, but when he cleared his throat to speak Dumbledore looked at him with a challenge in his eye that seemed to make him nervous, and instead he issued an apology on behalf of the boy, who was spending the night in the nurses office under chain. The assurance that she was safe didn't lessen the knots in her stomach.

In the end, Dumbledore awarded Draco fifty points for, "Willingness to protect others, even those you would not normally expect to protect." 

Draco, proving himself to be a hero on multiple aspects, insisted that the points not tell exactly the circumstances which he received them, making them as vague as possible so even teachers would be left out of the loop on what exactly happened. Hermione couldn't think of a reason why Draco himself wouldn't want the story getting out, so she assumed he didn't want people to look at her like a victim. She found herself grateful for that.

The mystery concerning how Draco Malfoy received 50 points in one night wasn't anyone's top concern until the Tournaments ended (with Cedric winning the cup for Hogwarts), but when they did the rumors flew. How had he managed to get that many? That was the same amount the Trio got when they saved the school, he must have done something extraordinary if it was worthy of the same treatment. _"Especially for a Slytherin,"_ She'd heard on more than one occasion. Hermione overheard Cho ask Goyle about it once, and was relieved to find out Malfoy hadn't made a single remark about it. Acted as if nothing happened at all, even. When they'd asked, he remained exceptionally quiet about the whole thing.

Hermione supposed she wasn't much help when it came to the rumors. A few days after the incident, she'd even helped Draco with his potions. "It works better if you crack the seed in half before you put it in." She'd so helpfully told him.

He'd looked at her as if she were crazy, but did as she instructed anyway. Since then, she'd taken it upon herself to help him out in all of their shared classes, and it didn't take long for people to notice. The rumors after that only got worse, with people so cleverly stating Draco must have done something quite pleasant to Hermione for her to begin acting like that, and immediately deciding it must have been something to do with those mysterious points that he wouldn't speak of. 

None of the rumors came close to the truth, and she found that relieving. The Durmstrang boy leaving was explained as him catching a sudden sickness, and with everyone so wrapped up in the Tri-wizard Tournaments and the Draco story, he seemed like a mere footnote. A footnote Hermione still had nightmares about.

"What did Draco do that was so much for you to forgive all the shit he's done?" Ron asked for the umpteenth time.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, yet again. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"I'll bet he put some sort of hex on you, and that's why you're being so nice to him all of a sudden!" Ron remarked, crossing his arms in front of him.

She cast him a glare that nearly made him flinch. "Just because I don't want to talk about it doesn't mean nothing happened!" She nearly-shouted, alerting the attention of several students nearby.

"Alright 'Mione, calm down. No one thinks nothing happened. We're just worried about you." Harry assured, sending Ron a look telling him to quiet.

"Well don't be. Draco just did something really nice for me is all. Something he wouldn't have done if he hated me as much as he acted." She replied in a softer tone, glancing down.

She'd already come to the conclusion that Draco must not really hate her. He hadn't said as much, in fact they rarely spoke outside of class, but if he hated her as much as he claimed to she had no doubts he would have completely ignored it instead of helping her that night. Draco Malfoy had a heart, however hard he tried to mask it. She wondered why he tried so hard anyway,but despite the rescue he still didn't seem to have much of a desire to talk to her. She guessed that she shouldn't have been surprised by that, considering how he treated her beforehand.

"Potter, nice moves in Dark Arts class. Trying to knock yourself out before anyone else can?" Came a sharp voice, and Hermione turned around to see Draco moving towards them.

He shoulder-checked Ron as he moved past, sending the red-head flying into Harry, and them both to the ground. Hermione blinked in surprise, looking back up at him with a small frown.

"You know, you shouldn't be rude to people." She said, crossing her arms in front of her face. "You have a heart, act like it."

Draco stared at her for a few moments but said nothing before walking away. He hadn't done anything antagonistic towards her since that night, even when he taunted Harry or Ron. She was alright with their rocky truce, thinking she probably couldn't be very cruel back to him even if he were still mean to her.

She helped her friends to their feet and tried not to think too much about it.

\--

Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. It was just past two in the morning, and she'd just awoken from another nightmare. She wanted desperately to go back to sleep, she knew that being awake this much couldn't be healthy for her. But she couldn't make herself tired. She couldn't feel his hands on her anymore, the memory was thankfully beginning to fade. But when she slept it almost felt like it was happening again.

She wanted to go for a walk, like she always did to make herself tired, but the fear that gripped her stomach at the idea kept her in place. She knew it was a useless fear, that no one would be lurking in the shadows this time. There was no reason to be afraid. He was gone. But for once, knowledge didn't make her feel any better.

 _"He can't do anything now. I'm right here."_

She stood up with a sudden restlessness, having a destination in mind. One that wasn't quite as far as wandering the halls.

\--

Draco didn't like being woken up. Sleep was one of his favorite past times and short of an emergency, there was no reason to cut into his sleep unless they had some form of death wish. Yet here someone was, shaking his shoulder with a slowly-growing urgency. 

"There better be a fire." He snarled without opening his eyes. The responding squeak and loosened grip on his shoulder told him there probably wasn't.

He forced his eyes open, blinking a few times so the blurry vision would go away, along with his last memories of sleep. He found himself staring at an increasingly familiar sight- Hermione Granger with tear-stained cheeks. She wasn't crying any longer, but her wide brown eyes were staring down at him like there was an ever-growing danger of it happening again.

"Oh, it's you." He responded, unsure of what the protocol was for a crying witch in his bedroom at night.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I just had a bad dream and I didn't want to walk around the halls and I thought..." She trailed off her rushed sentence and Draco realized she probably had no idea what she thought.

"Thought? Spit it out Granger." He asked, irritated she would come into his room, wake him up, and do nothing but babble.

"Can I stay here tonight?" She asked softly, looking down to the floor.

He remained unimpressed. "Why didn't you wake up Potter, or the Weasel?" He asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

"They would ask why I was having nightmares." She supplied, hand moving up to play with her hair as she looked at him nervously.

He ran his own hand through his hair and stifled a yawn. "They don't know?" He asked, receiving a quick shake of the head in reply. "Well that's just- great." He grumbled.

She visibly stilled at his complaint, before looking to the ground. "I didn't want them to feel pity for me."

"How do you know I don't feel pity for you?" He asked, a frown forming on his face.

She paled slightly, but shook her head. "I don't think so." She replied, sitting uncomfortably close to him. "I think- you care about me."

A small groan escaped his lips. "And tell me, _why_ exactly you think that?" He asked with a frown.

"Because you saved me." She responded quickly. "And you've been surprisingly nice to me as of late."

"Look, _Granger_ did it ever occur to you that you mean the same amount of nothing to me now as you did before? And I've been nice to you out of pity?" He frowned.

"No."

"Well you should start thinking on it." He could feel her staring at him now, and when he turned he noticed how close their faces were.

"So I can't stay then?" She asked, and he could feel her start to tremble. Her voice was quieter when she asked, "will you walk me back to Gryffindor then? It's dark and I..." She trailed off.

He sighed, admitting defeat if only just to go back to bed sooner. At least, that's how he rationalized it. "Just lie down, Granger."

She did as he asked, moving silently as if she thought the slightest noise might make him change his mind. Good, they were done talking then. He collapsed back into his mattress, glad the situation was solved enough for him to go back to sleep.

That was until she shifted, nestling her head onto his shoulder, nose brushing his neck, with a soft sigh of relief. He tensed up, debating shoving her away before he accepted she wasn't much for reasonable tonight, and instead turning so he was on his side. The insufferable muggle-born only curled closer, pressing her forehead lightly against his spine and wrapping her arm loosely over his upper body. This time, he didn't move.

"Thank you." She mumbled sometime later. "For letting me stay I mean."

He groaned quietly. "Won't be staying for long if you keep talking."

She quieted.

\--

The Gryffindor Princess was starting to annoy him, really. In the past two weeks, she'd ended up in his bed six times. The past two, she hadn't even bothered to wake him. He'd awoken half-way through the night with a witch curled up against him and a hard-on that he hoped to ignore.

He thought about warding his bedroom, maybe adding in another password since the Slytherin portrait was clearly unashamed about bending the rules for her; but he couldn't quite bring himself to. When she'd wake him, it was always as if she were still genuinely frightened. All soft tones and nervous fidgeting that turned to relief the moment he caved and motioned for her to lie down. He didn't know why he'd bothered to put up a fight after the second night, he'd known it was a losing game. It was hard to say no to Hermione Granger when she was in need. He didn't know when it started, or why. But it was his new reality.

Things took a turn for the worse when, on the third night in a row, he woke up to a frizzy-haired witch curled up with her head on his stomach. At first, he'd barely batted an eye. That was before he noticed her hand, much too close to his inner thigh for comfort. And in true fashion of a teenaged boy, suddenly he was noticing a whole lot more. The way her mouth was actually a really pleasant shade of pink, and how they parted ever-so slightly when she slept.

The fact that she'd stopped wearing bras to bed.

When had that started? He hadn't bothered to pay much attention to trivial things like that when she was wearing those ridiculous red and gold pajamas she seemed so fond of. Now, in her tight blue tank top it seemed a lot more important. Had she been wearing one yesterday when he'd woken to her boobs practically falling out of her shirt? Or when he'd spent half the night with her chest pressed against his arm?

Her hand moved slightly and, for his own sanity, he shifted his weight so she was no longer touching him at all. Gods, he was going to have to get that problem situated before it got out of hand. She was a damn mudblood, not even a half-blood. His father would be absolutely furious to know his son was thinking impure thoughts about her. Not to mention the fact that up until very recently he'd decidedly hated her and her ragtag group of brave idiots.

He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and going to bed.

\--

He'd successfully avoided Hermione for the majority of the day. The small glances of her he'd seen before sitting across the room or turning down another hall have only led to more and more thoughts about her. Throwing her up against the walls of the Prefect bathroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Hearing her moan so loudly they'd need a charm...

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his head. This was all because he hadn't gotten laid in a while. That's all he needed to do to go back to normal and stop thinking about screwing Granger's brains out.

"Leave me alone!" He heard a familiar voice shout. He looked up to see Hermione stomping down the halls, an angry frown formed on her very pretty lips.

"Oh come on Granger, I know where you've been sneaking off to at night. Why not let me have a taste too?" A brunet Ravenclaw boy snickered from behind her. 

She didn't bother to defend herself, but Draco could see the red in her cheeks from several feet away. People were looking at the two of them now, people other than Draco. He could feel his stomach sink when he realized that someone had been seeing her slip into his bedroom at night. Who else had seen her? He couldn't imagine that particular gossip being spread around the school. Rational though reminded him that as a Ravenclaw the boy couldn't be sure who's rooms she went in past the Slytherin doors.

_"Wingardium leviosa."_

Draco never really thought of himself as a person who took the time to think things through. He'd like to be, he envied those people sometimes; but the moment that rat-faced little vermin lifted Hermione's skirt he just snapped. Screw thinking things through. Screw the rumors. Screw what his father was going to say. Screw all of it because the look of absolute mortification on Hermione's face was making his vision go red.

When he realized entirely what he was doing, it was when Professor Snape was grabbing him by the robes and pulling him to his feet. He couldn't quite remember not being on his feet, but the fact that the Ravenclaw was also on the ground with a surprising amount of blood rushing from his nose gave him the general idea of what he'd done. The anger still swelling up in his chest wanted him to shrug out of the robes, get a few more hits in; but he knew that it would do nothing but get him into more trouble. Even with the looks of his fellow students burning into his skin and Snape dragging him off to his office, he did not quite regret it.

He was willing to bet no one would be so stupid as to try anything like that again.

\--

Hermione was waiting for Draco in the Room of Requirement. He hadn't been in any other classes for the day, so she'd left him a note in his room asking him to meet her there. After a while, she'd feared he was suspended. So when the door opened and a head of blond hair stepped inside, she was immensely relieved.

"You wanted to see me?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised.

Hermione smiled, taking the few steps to give him a hug. "I thought you'd gotten in trouble. Professor Snape looked furious when he took you away."

The blond shrugged, doing nothing to push her away. "He was, but not enough to do anything other than yell, I guess. A couple kids came forward to say what happened beforehand, so he mostly let me off the hook."

For a few moments, there was silence, and then; "I told you that you cared about me."

Draco groaned softly, but didn't argue. There wouldn't be much point in it, he'd already quite proved himself. "I guess so."

A few more moment of silence. "...Do you want to kiss me?" Hermione asked softly, pulling away from the hug to look at him.

Their lips were too close together for him to make any rational decisions, but irrational decisions had been doing pretty well for him. He took it as an invitation, moving his head a few inches closer and sealing their lips in a kiss. More of a peck really, as it only lasted a moment before he pulled away, and she gave him quite a dissatisfied look as she pulled him back for another.

This time ignited a fire. It was almost like she was flipping a switch; suddenly all those nights of her lying in his bed, just-shy of indecent body pressed up against his came flooding back. If he weren't so distracted by the sudden heat, and desire, and _need_ he might not have liked how easily she managed to do so.

Her hands remained on his shoulder, clutching them tightly as if she were silently wishing him not to stop, and that was the furthest thing from his mind. His hands fell to her hips, pulling her close enough to feel the hammering in her chest. Her hands tightened for a moment before one trailed hesitantly upwards, grasping his hair loosely. 

She pulled away first this time, but only to take a moments breath before closing the space once more, hand moving from his shoulder to slide her lower, lower still until she'd reached the hemline of his pants. She tugged once, freeing his shirt from where it'd been so neatly tucked so she could roam her hand up his bare skin, fingers trailing gracefully on the smooth canvas of his stomach towards his chest.

She was definitely going to be the death of him like that. He moved her forward with the intent of pressing her back to the wall, and he felt a flicker of tension run up her back. Thinking better of it he lifted her up, and was pleased with how easily her legs wrapped around his waist. He moved a hand down to cup her bum, feeling the softness of her panties against his fingers. She responded by leaning her hips back, causing his fingers to trace the outline of her vagina and moaning against his lips when it did. She wiggled her hips slightly, as if trying to convince him of something his mind had already decided. Still, the tiny little noises escaping into his mouth were tantalizing. 

Draco had always (secretly) admired the confidence the young witch managed to exude, and wasn't at all disappointed that she seemed to have it in this particular department as well. In fact, it was leaving him with more horniness than he ever remembered feeling for a girl in his life. He'd been so used to doe-eyed schoolgirls just beginning to explore that he didn't even think about the alternative. Didn't think he'd find confidence to be a kink for him. But it was, and he was all too happy to give her exactly what she was asking for. So, using his unoccupied hand to keep her from falling, he pressed a little harder with his fingers, rubbing her clit through her panties. The way she moaned and tried grinding downwards for more was threatening to drive him mad.

He broke the kiss, stilling his hand and delighting in the way her eyes seemed a little hazy when she looked at him. "Hermione are you-" He sucked in a breath when she moved to place slow, wet kisses on his neck.

"Very sure." She mumbled against his skin. She mumbled something else, something he couldn't quite hear, and he found himself in his bedroom.

He heard her wand hit the floor with a soft thud, and tried to make sure to avoid it when he all but flung the two of them onto his bed. She was, per usual, already ahead of him; yanking his shirt above his head, having no time to take in the view before her own skirt was being tugged down her legs. She kicked them aside, pulling him closer for another kiss.

Another day, he'd take the time to undress her. Take it slow, tease her. Lick every inch of her from those agonizingly perfect breasts down to her clit. Make her scream with nothing but his fingers. Do things the proper way. But right now she was already fumbling for the button of his pants and he was having a hard time focusing on anything else. He nearly tore her panties when removing them, and he could not tell you the color but he did know they were soaked. She wanted it. Needed it. Just as much as he did. And she was quite enthusiastic about expressing it.

He thought about asking again, making sure she was sure. He didn't want this to end in her turning him into a newt, or to have some horrible flashbacks and end up crying. But he thought back to her tone when she said she was sure, and by the time he made up his mind she already had his cock in her hand fingers pressing just tightly enough for him to not be able to think of anything else. He moaned loudly, almost caught off guard before he remembered Hermione Granger did not seem much for patience. He was beginning to think she had a thing for control. Which, he would be quite happy getting used to.

She pushed him backwards, letting him stabilize himself on the backs of his heels before lowering herself onto his lap. Their bare skin felt alight with fire, and when she shifted and he felt his dick press against her entrance he damn near lost it. Instead, he pushed up, catching her off-guard for the first time of the evening. The noise he got in response was almost too loud to be considered anything but a shriek of pleasure. He'd have grinned if he weren't more focused on the tightness surrounding him. He grabbed her hips, using them for leverage as he pounded her, listening to her sinfully delightful moans. After she managed to compose herself, she began bouncing along with his thrusts. 

Her head fell into the crook of his neck, and he felt the way her thighs tensed up. He felt her hand snake between them, and even though her body was blocking his view he knew she was playing with her clit. The way her body trembled when alight with pleasure was mesmerizing. Addictive. If he hadn't already, he'd realized then that she was all he wanted in this moment.

The way her body moved when she came undone was something he could watch forever. The way her chest heaved from the exerted energy, pushing her breasts until they were nearly falling out of the undone buttons of her shirt. Her trembling thighs which she seemed entirely unable to control, or rather completely unaware of. Her mouth, parted slightly to form an 'o' like somehow surprised by the pleasure she was receiving, demanding. Her already unruly hair completely strewn about her face. He supposed it wasn't that unlike other girls. But something about her, her in particular, was enough to push him over the edge.

He laid her down gently, and she seemed to completely collapse onto the comfort of the bed. He took the moment to check her out, unashamed. She gave him a look he could only describe as absolute sex, although it was quickly diminishing into sleepiness. She reached out for him, and he took that to mean she'd be spending the night. He found himself to be looking forward to it, laying down beside her and letting her snuggle up against him- probably in attempt to warm her now rapidly cooling body.

Hermione's breathing was still heavy, head pressed into his shoulder. It felt a lot more familiar to him than he ever would have thought. "I'm not- I don't-" She started, and her nervous tone of voice seemed so different from the girl who'd been riding him like she needed it a few moments ago. "I don't do stuff like that all the time. I mean I'm not a virgin but I'm not like that..."

Draco silenced her explanation with a kiss. "If I cared about what you did with someone else I'd have asked about it before we had sex." He replied, and she seemed to let out a breath of relief, shifting impossibly closer to him.

"I just didn't want you to think... I mean in case we do this again. I'm not... not sleeping with anyone else." She clarified quietly, not quite meeting his eyes and instead staring at the hickey she'd made on his throat.

A soft huff which was not quite a laugh emerged past Draco's lips. "Well I'd hope to ask you on a proper date, so my hope was that would give me an advantage on the situation if you were." He replied lightly.

There was a moments pause, and he wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. Maybe moved in a different path than she'd wanted him to. His heart was just beginning to sink when her voice pierced the silence once more. "You want to take me on a date?"

"Preferably."

She shifted to look him in the eyes for the first time. "Won't your father, death eater waiting for the second-return, be absolutely furious?" She asked incredulously. 

"Undoubtedly." He replied, giving her an awkward half-smile. "But won't you find great entertainment in telling him?"

There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes at that. He imagined her, confidently walking up the steps to Malfoy manner, waving hello to his shocked mother and outraged father. She'd be polite all evening, responding to passive aggressive comments with the snarky tone he'd grown to like. Show them her absolute brilliance until they'd have no choice but to admit, never out-loud, that Hermione Granger was one of the greatest witches alive. A muggle-born with skills that bestest their own. He was almost looking forward to the moment already.

She placed a kiss on his lips, finally giving him the smile he'd been hoping for. "Can't wait."

**Author's Note:**

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